5 Ways Itachi Survived
by keepfreakingout
Summary: As stated in the title. A collection of AU's wherein Itachi survives. Chapter Five: Sasuke finally puts his pretty, overused eyes to good use.
1. You don't know my pain (but you stay)

Welcome to my second foray into the Naruto fandom. This was inspired by my inability to accept Itachi's death (and Sasuke's subsequent moping)— so in all of these chapters, Itachi lives, though—as in this chapter—whether Sasuke eventually kills him is up to you...

* * *

Beneath the cool summer sky, two men walked along Konoha's grounds.

Well, one of them walked. The other jogged to keep up with his brisk pace, panting although he was nearly half the elder man's age.

"H-hokage-sama — are you _positive_ this is the best way—"

"Are you questioning my intelligence or my authority?" Sarutobi Hiruzen asked mildly, waving at a nearby ramen vender.

The balding man behind him stiffened and began sweating with renewed vigor.

"Neither, of _course_ , Hokage-sama, but—I mean— it's just so sudden! I—"

"Do you believe that he is unfit for this, then?"

"Yes," the man gasped, nearly faint with relief. "That's what I've been _saying_ —"

"All the more reason for this arrangement, then. If you don't believe Uzumaki Naruto capable of socializing—empathizing— with his peers, especially one who can relate to him so closely, then you obviously know nothing of the boy. I only regret that he was left in your care this long."

The orphanage's director — Uzumaki Naruto's primary caretaker — stopped short, obviously fearing a harsher reprimand, or, even worse, a dock in pay.

"H-hokage-sama!" He called desperately, but Sarutobi merely hummed in response.

"He is unstable — he cannot —"

Sarutobi's aura sharpened, and even a civilian could feel the thick killing intent he leveled at the perspiring man.

The director bit his tongue in his haste to shut his mouth, his entire body quaking.

But he persists. "U-U-U-"

"Uchiha Sasuke," Sarutobi filled in for him. "He is Naruto's intended roommate, which is what I presume you meant to say?"

"Yes—that's what I—but I didn't— _why_?" He manages, finally, helplessly.

At this, the Saindaime Hokage turns, smiling. "Why not?"

* * *

Sasuke's eye twitches faintly. It's bad enough to have to share a house — it is not a home, no matter what the Sandaime says; home was with kaa-san and tou-san and _him_ — with the annoying, loudmouthed blonde, but he would _not_ tolerate pranks.

He was the Uchiha Heir, damn it all (he refused – _refused –_ to think about how that used to be _his_ title) and no one was allowed to graffiti his door.

He has to admit, though, in the tiny part of his brain not occupied with inventing increasingly painful ways to kill Naruto, he is surprised.

Ever since the Sandaime had decreed that they were to share an apartment, Naruto had been uncharacteristically quiet — Sasuke's barely heard him speak, on the rare occasions he's been in the same room as the blonde.

And it's not as though he's worried or anything. An avenger has no time for such petty emotions, and Sasuke is an avenger.

(It's not like he wants to have meals with the blonde, or train with him, or even _speak_ to him. It's just strange, is all.

He's not used to a house this quiet)

That aside, the prank is rather below Naruto's (admittedly impressive) caliber. Normally, the blonde would have rigged a trap on the door, so that something – usually something colorful, sticky and utterly obnoxious – would fall on Sasuke's head as he entered – and the message: **DIE** — which seems malicious (not to mention simplistic) in comparison to Naruto's usual writings — is written not in a vibrant orange, Naruto's signature color, but a dull red color, which Sasuke supposes is to resemble the color of blood.

The Uchiha sighs, crosses his arms and waits.

Naruto should be coming out to gloat soon enough.

* * *

Ten minutes later, his patience has worn thin. He raps sharply on the blonde's door.

Naruto exits, rubbing at his eyes, his clothes even more rumpled than usual.

"I was sleeping, y'know," he complains.

Sasuke doesn't respond, though he does note that neither the blonde's hands nor clothes have any traces of red on them—though he's often heard the blonde complain about how hard spray paint is to remove from both.

Regardless, he marches the blonde to the door, and waits.

Naruto blinks at him. "What?"

Sasuke swings it open, keeping his eyes on Naruto's face, waiting for any sign of amusement or guilt.

Instead, Naruto pales rapidly, his eyes widening.

He mutters a low curse under his breath, before he pastes a smile on his face, turning to his roommate.

"Oh, you found this, huh? It's not really one of my best, but—"

"You're lying," Sasuke interrupts sharply. The blonde's eyes shift from side-to-side, his hands twitching by his sides, and his expression – a wide, toothy smile— is completely fake.

Sasuke _hates_ it.

He _hates_ being lied to, hates people who try to fool him— _maybe next time, Sasuke_ — and he wants the _truth_.

"H-huh?" Naruto's grin widens, and his eyes flicker faster around the room—searching for a way out. "No, I'm not; why would I _pretend_ to prank you?"

"You tell me," Sasuke retorts, taking some small pleasure in the way the blonde's face falls when he realizes Sasuke's seen through him.

"I—it's—"

The Uchiha cuts through his stuttering once again. "Wait. Was this meant for _you?_ "

Naruto's annoying, certainly, loud and exuberant: a headache in human form, but he doesn't deserve _this_ —

The uneven red lettering, almost idiotic in its simplicity, doesn't seem so amusing anymore.

" _Why_?" Sasuke demands, outraged on the blonde's behalf.

Naruto shrugs, attempts another smile. "I don't know? People just—do it, sometimes."

" _Screw_ them," Sasuke sneers, turning away furiously.

Naruto follows him. "Why are you so mad about this? You don't like me, either."

He sounds—different. Matter of fact. As though this is something ordinary—as though it happens to him _often_.

For some reason, that serves to increase Sasuke's anger.

"I just _am,_ " he snarls, swings open the bathroom door.

"Okay? Wait—what are you doing?" Naruto calls as the Uchiha goes in, opening several cabinets before emerging with a satisfied noise.

Sasuke doesn't reply, merely grabbing a roll of toilet paper off the sink.

"Oi—Sasuke. Hey, bastard—"

Naruto cuts himself off with a strangled noise as Sasuke kneels by the door, squirting some cleaning solution on the writing and proceeds to scrub it off.

He makes another series of strange noises, ending with a squawk so loud Sasuke turns to face him with a frown.

"What's wrong with you?"

"You—you—"Naruto gestures to the Uchiha, but doesn't explain further.

Sasuke raises an eyebrow. "What about me?"

"You—you're— _don't_ —" Naruto manages to say, finally.

"Don't what?" Sasuke asks.

"I—the cleaning—I can do it—"Naruto begins, but Sasuke glares at him.

"Don't be an idiot." He may be, as Naruto constantly tells him, a stoic bastard, but even he isn't going to make the blonde clean a _death threat_ meant for him off the door.

"I—" Naruto throws his hands up in the air when Sasuke ignores him, turning back to his work. A few moments later, the Uchiha hears loud stomping, and presumes that that's the end of it.

Of course, he reflects, as the blonde sulks back, his own roll of toilet paper in tow, it's never a good idea to presume _anything_ where Naruto is concerned.

He snatches the toilet paper away before the blonde can press it to the door. Naruto glares at him.

"Hey, bastard, I'm trying to _help_ you, here."

Sasuke shakes his head mutely.

Naruto groans, reaching for the toilet paper.

The Uchiha moves it away from him at the last moment.

Groan.

Lunge.

Move.

Groan.

Lunge.

Move.

Gr—

"Fine. You want to help?"

" _Yes_ ," Naruto exclaims, throwing up his hands in exasperation. "That's what I've been _saying_ for the last freaking ten minutes!"

"Sit there." Sasuke points to a spot suitably far away from himself. "And start talking."

"About what?"

"Why this—" Sasuke jerks his head towards the door, "happened, and why you don't seem concerned about it at all,"

Naruto fakes a laugh. "Actually, there were a couple things I needed to do, so—"

"Naruto."

The blonde sighs loudly. "Fine. You want to know? I'll tell you."

Sasuke pauses, turns to face him.

"Okay," Naruto scratches the back of his head awkwardly, "This was easier when you weren't looking at me…"

"Quit stalling," Sasuke snaps.

"People—the villagers—some of the shinobi, _all_ of the shopkeepers, they hate me. I don't know _why_ , but they do. And some of them just look at me like – like I'm a monster—but others, they say things, or throw rocks, or—"

"—do this," Sasuke finishes, his fists clenches. He knows what it feels like to be pinned under the weight of a villager's gaze. To feel yourself frozen in place because of the horror and pity mingling openly on their faces—but for that look to be loaded with _hatred_ — he turns back to the door, scrubbing harder.

"So. Um. If you want to—move out or something—" Naruto begins, but Sasuke shakes his head.

"Uh—okay? Are you su—"

"Yes, dumbass," Sasuke mutters, shifting so the blonde doesn't see his red cheeks. "We need to find out why they hate you, anyway."

"Huh—how?"

"Are you a ninja or not, dead-last?"

"Not yet, you bastard! And—hang on—did you say _we_?"

"Yeah, but don't— _Oi!_ Get _off_ me, you—"

No matter _what_ Naruto says, he wasn't smiling as the idiot tackled him—not even the second time, when Naruto managed to convince him to make ramen for dinner.

It was a smirk, at most.

* * *

Thanks for reading. Reviews are appreciated.


	2. Give me time (to change my mind)

Chapter Two: Nine is too young, he rationalizes when he spirits Sasuke away from Konoha — and all evidence of his sins. So is ten, eleven, twelve. It's only when Sasuke turns sixteen that Itachi realizes that maybe there is no good age to tell his brother he killed their entire family.

* * *

Itachi braced himself for another fight in the seemingly-endless war that he'd somehow joined.

Today's mission?

Get Sasuke to bed at a reasonable hour.

He chanced a look at the clock and winced.

It was nearing 11; how had his parents ever enforced a bedtime?

He slid open the glass door of their new apartment, brushing the thought of his parents, and the pain that came alongside it, away, as he'd become accustomed to doing.

Unbidden, a memory rose in the back of his mind: his mother's wide eyes as he entered their bedroom, sword in hand, the calm acceptance on his father's face as he gripped his wife's hand for the last time. The way their blood had seeped through the floorboards, clinging to his feet, his hands, refusing to let him go —

He started as his feet touched wet grass; he'd forgotten where he was.

He gripped the wall, breathing deeply in an attempt to calm down.

* * *

Five minutes later, having regained his unflappable demeanor, he walked to the edge of the property where Sasuke was busily using his kunai to carve... something... out of a thick piece of wood.

Itachi cleared his throat to alert the boy of his presence, although Sasuke had doubtlessly already sensed his chakra.

When Sasuke still didn't respond, Itachi rolled his eyes and nudged him.

The boy hummed absentmindedly.

"Sasuke. Ototo, it's bedtime now."

"Just one more—"

"Now, ototo."

The younger boy huffed, but ultimately assented, stomping up the pathway to prepare for slumber.

* * *

At approximately midnight — after a series of ominous crashes and thuds, accompanied by words Sasuke was _not_ supposed to know, let alone use — Itachi climbed the stairs and found his pajama-clad younger brother surreptitiously reading a scroll under the covers, his "summon": a worn, brown puppy ( _Ootori-kun is_ not _a stuffed toy, nii-san_!) firmly in hand.

Itachi sighed, pressing his lips into a thin line – Sasuke had the ability to sense Itachi's amusement, and the last thing Itachi wanted to do was encourage this behavior. Even if it was – slightly – amusing.

"Ototo."

The lump under the quilt jumped guiltily and began snoring loudly.

Despite his best efforts, Itachi's lips twitched.

Sasuke peeked out from under the covers, and then, noting Itachi's small smile, he threw the comforter aside, dark hair mussed and eyes bright.

"Nii-san, tell me a story?" He demanded, bouncing excitedly on the bed.

"O—"

"The one about the village and the clans and the huuuge monster."

Itachi sighed, this time in defeat – he had yet to discover a way to effectively counter Sasuke's pleas.

Sasuke settled more comfortably onto the bed, aware that he had won. Itachi sank down beside him; his younger brother leaned into him instinctively.

"Once, many, many years ago, there was a village hidden deep within the leaves, a village where all lived peacefully. And this village was divided into groups, each of which had their own skill.

Some could dart into another's mind, stealing their secrets in the blink of an eye.

Others lurked in the shadows, ensnaring their unsuspecting victims in the darkness.

There were many talents in this faraway village: there were those who could grow to the size of mountains and crush you with a mere breath, those who became one with their familiars: wolves in human form, with elongated teeth and superhuman senses.

And, most dangerous of all, were those whose weapons were their very eyes."

Here, Sasuke stiffened, clutching at his toy, for Itachi's voice grew cold, bitter.

Itachi smiled at him, rubbing comforting circles into his back, and making a conscious effort to lighten his tone, though the irony in his next words was apparent.

"Those with powerful eyes believed themselves to be superior to all others, lording themselves above the mind-thieves, the shadow-walkers, the giants.

Some of the most arrogant even believed themselves above the leader of their village, though their leader was both mighty and just.

But for a time, they cooperated with their leader, for he was clever, and brought them closer to the village, naming them the protectors of their land.

And so they were proud, in their titles and in their leader.

But, as scarcely had a peace been brokered between the clan and the village, was it broken as calamity struck.

A beast, unlike any other, his nine tails soaked in blood, attacked the village.

The leader and the beast fought, and at the expense of the leader's life, the village was saved.

His child, alone in the world, for both his parents had perished in the battle, held the beast captive in his stomach, a flesh and blood prison."

Here, Sasuke always closed his eyes. "I bet people didn't like him," he commented the first time Itachi told this story.

"Because he's alone; he has no one to protect him, or help him, so he has to hold back the monster all by himself. They probably think _he's_ the monster." He explained at Itachi's prompting.

"Meanwhile, the leader's predecessor once again took his place. But he was old and weary, and could not see far into the workings into his village, as he had once been able.

And so the illusionists began to plot against the very village they had once protected."

Itachi paused, looking to his wide-eyed brother.

"What happened next, nii-san?" The boy prompted eagerly.

Itachi gestured for the boy to come closer, and when Sasuke leaned in, Itachi smiled, poking his brother's forehead.

"That, ototo, is a story for another day," he replied.

Sasuke pouted. "No _fair_ , you _never_ finish that story."

"Then why do you always ask me to tell it?" Itachi inquired.

Sasuke looked straight at his brother, his dark eyes piercing. "Because someday, you'll tell me how it ends."

Itachi sighed. "Yes, someday."

Sasuke blinked in surprise, and then beamed.

Itachi smiled back, though his heart ached.

 _How soon will I be forced to tell you the truth?_

 _How soon will you grow to despise me?_

Sasuke called his brother back as Itachi turned to leave.

"Nii-san!"

"Y—oomph!" Itachi managed, as Sasuke tackled him.

"'Love you," the younger boy murmured, after a long moment. "I'll never leave you, no matter what happens."

Itachi sucked in a harsh breath, and then tightened his grip.

 _What did I do to deserve you_? He wondered, clutching at his little brother.

* * *

"Today. You'll finish the story today," Sasuke demands, though there's still an edge of — not quite uncertainty, but hesitance in his voice.

 _You still want to believe that I am the hero of this fairy tale, don't you?_

"One more day," Itachi bargains.

And before Sasuke can argue: "It would not make the best birthday present, ototo.

Stay ignorant for one more day."

 _Stay happy, stay with me for one more day,_ Itachi doesn't say.

Sasuke hears it anyway.

* * *

The day after Sasuke's sixteenth birthday, Itachi sits him down by the Nanaki River — this story was worth the danger of risking entrance into Konoha — and explains how Shisui had died, how his suicide had triggered the suspicion of the already paranoid elders, how it had only gotten worse from there.

Nine years ago, when Itachi had taken a single look at his brother's innocent face and decided he couldn't rip his world apart — not then, not when he was so young, so trusting — he had vowed to tell Sasuke the truth someday. All of it, in its hideous, naked form.

He watches the innocence leave his brother's face, wonders, _how have you made it to sixteen when you are this trusting?_

He knows the answer to that, though. Itachi clung Sasuke's innocence with desperation, banishing anything that could cause doubt to form in his younger brother's mind.

Sasuke's grown up, a boy — almost a man, now, finally growing into his long limbs — who took on Orochimaru when he was 12 and then convinced Pein not to go on a destructive rampage merely three years later — and sliced his way near indiscriminately through many a hidden village's finest ninja.

And yet, throughout his entire — short, naive, _precious_ — life he's retained this much trust in his older brother.

Until today.

It all ends today.

Itachi recounts how he'd stabbed his parents, tells his brother of his father's last words, and then, his story finally complete, he gets up to leave.

Sasuke stiffens — as he did when he was nine and still sleeping with toys for comfort and Itachi left the room to get a glass of water — "where are you going?"

"You need time to think. And people to talk to. People who you can trust."

 _Unlike_ me, he thinks wryly.

Sasuke doesn't stop him, this time, as he disappears into the shadows, but Itachi could swear his brother's hand reaches out to hold him, keep him.

* * *

He's 14 and so very tired, unable to sleep, for every time he closes his eyes he sees his parents' faces, Shisui's face and then Sasuke is there too, his body joining the unmoving pile that Itachi created. His eyes open blood-red, he sobs "I trusted you—I _loved_ you—" and for the third time that night, Itachi wakes up with a soundless scream locked in his throat.

He lunges for a weapon when he hears the door creak open, but it is only a sleepy-eyed Sasuke.

The younger boy takes a single glance at him — chest heaving, a kunai in his fist and panic written all across his face — and lets the crack widen, light spilling out into the corridor, dragging both his blanket and his dog along with him.

He doesn't say a word as he tugs the kunai away from Itachi, clambers into his lap, and pulls the blanket over the both of them; he merely presses Ootori-kun into Itachi's hands, and buries his face into the crook of his brother's neck.

Itachi doesn't know whether to laugh or cry.

* * *

For the first time in five years, Itachi awakens with wet cheeks.

He climbs out of bed, shuffles to the bathroom, grabbing a change of clothes somewhere along the way.

When he reaches the kitchen, he heads straight to the cupboard to retrieve a mug for his tea.

As he turns back to the counter, there is already a tea bag in his cup; Sasuke leans against the wall, a challenge in his eyes.

Itachi murmurs a quiet thanks, steam wafting through the open window as he pours hot water into the mug.

Any other time, he'd be smirking into his cup as Sasuke's eyebrows twitch at Itachi's lack of surprise at his sudden appearance.

This isn't any other time, though. This is the last time he will see his brother, whether because the boy — man — will leave permanently, or because his brother will kill him.

Personally, he's hoping for the latter.

"How have you been?" He inquires, just as the silence is starting to become awkward. There's no reason their last meeting can't be _somewhat_ pleasant.

Sasuke looks relieved at the question. "I made some. Friends, I mean." He frowns slightly. "One of them's kind of a dumbass— and he thought _I_ was stupid too; how did he expect me to miss the fact that the Kyuubi was sealed inside of him? And then he expected me to hate him for it, because apparently no one had ever figured it out before..."

He continues in this thread for quite a while.

Itachi smiles, feeling that familiar ache.

 _Have you left me behind yet? Have you finally outgrown me?_

"Sounds like a good friend."

Sasuke subsides. "Yeah, I guess..."

Itachi waits, but when Sasuke offers nothing further, he speaks:

"Have you decided what course of action to take?"

Sasuke nods, looking slightly confused. "You want me tell you now?" He asks.

"A demonstration should be fine. I'm prepared." Itachi adds when Sasuke looks unconvinced.

"If you're sure," Sasuke agrees finally, and then he punches Itachi in the face.

"A tad dramatic," Itachi comments after a moment, feeling at his cheek for the extent of the damage. Sasuke was definitely holding back, but a few well-aimed jabs should —

"You _said_ you wanted a demonstration," Sasuke retorted, looking frustrated.

"Yes, but I'd much prefer a straightforward assassination, if you don't mind." Itachi replied.

"A straight—I'm not trying to _kill_ you!" Sasuke exclaimed, looking horrified at the thought of it.

"You're not?" How disappointing. The punch had likely been a parting gift then.

"No! I'm just mad—and confused." Sasuke confessed.

"I understand the anger—"

"I don't think you do. You _left_ me, nii-san. You told me all of... that... And then you just…left!"

Itachi's eyes grew wide at Sasuke's proclamation.

The younger boy looked down, flushing faintly. "I thought about it; I can—I have forgiven everything else—you had your reasons. I talked to Kaka- someone about it, and if you hadn't—" he swallowed, stared at the ground, "—done what you did, a lot more people would have died."

"Civil war," Itachi traced the rim of his cup. "That's what Danzo promised, if the coup had taken place. Civil war, and your death. "

Dark eyes shoot up at this. "You— I was part of your bargain?"

"The only part I cared about," Itachi answers wryly. At a time where his parents had gone insane with power, his best friend had left him, and the Hokage seemed willing to let his village descend into madness, Sasuke had truly been his saving grace.

Sasuke steps forth hesitantly. "But then— why? I promised not to leave you, and I thought that promise went both ways."

Itachi hadn't known it was possible to feel more guilt.

"Ototo, I-"

"I don't want an apology," Sasuke told his elder brother severely.

Itachi nodded. "Would you like me to leave?"

"No!" Sasuke all but yelled. "Don't you get it? I want you to _stop_ leaving! I hate it when you hide things from me— but I hate it even more when you try to take responsibility for everything! Damn it, I'm here too! And I'm _sick_ of you taking on all the blame for yourself!"

When Sasuke's rant comes to an end, the only things Itachi can hear are his brother's rapid breaths and his own racing heart.

"How would you like me to make this—" everything _, anything_ — "up to you?"

"Stay," was the immediate response. "Stay with me, and let me help you!"

"That doesn't sound hard," Itachi notes, unable to accept his brother's easy forgiveness.

"It's not supposed to be," Sasuke says exasperatedly. "Everything until now has been _awful_. Fucked up."

Itachi has to wince, thinking of that voice, once filled with so much admiration for him.

 _Weren't you ever happy with me?_

"Okay, maybe not completely," Sasuke amends, seeing his brother's minute movement. "But you had to fight for every step of it, nii-san. My forgiveness, my love; I'm giving those to you."

For a moment, Itachi literally can't speak, staring mutely at his brother.

"... Well?" Sasuke demands, after a long pause. "Do you accept?"

The tips of his ears are scarlet, Itachi notes, and then he wraps his arms around him.

"Yes. _Yes_."

Later, Sasuke adamantly denies the relieved tears that soak Itachi's shoulder.

For now, he merely grips his brother in return, muttering broken promises into silky hair.

* * *

As always, thanks for reading! Comments and criticism are welcome.


	3. In another world (i would make you stay)

Okay. You guys are _amazing._ I could not stop smiling when I'd seen how many people had read this- and then I almost had a heart attack when I realized people were following/favoriting this story too. And, most importantly, thanks for the reviews (which were the reason I stopped procrastinating and actually posted this freaking chapter).

Enjoy!

* * *

"Hey — Bakashi — Oi, wait up!" One of Konoha's most feared special jonin hollered, racing to catch up to his longtime rival and friend, and smashing into an unsuspecting passerby in the process.

 _In my defense_ , he thought blearily, as he got back to his feet _, the person I just ran into_ _is_ short.

"I aplog — Obito-nii-san," Itachi raised an eyebrow, interrupting his own apology when he saw his cousin.

Obito no Kamui, the first Mokuton specialist since the Shodaime Hokage, one of the five in Konoha that had a Mankegyou (or half of it), quailed under Itachi's stern glare. "Uh—"

"Yes?" Itachi asked expectantly.

Obito rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. "Sorry, Itachi-chan—"

Itachi's eyes narrowed. "I told you not to call me that."

"Aw, but _Itachi-chan_ —"

The boy cut him off once again, keen eyes observing his cousin's rumpled attire. "Never mind that. I've said it twenty-three times already, and I don't suppose you'll listen now. "

Obito opened his mouth to protest, but Itachi spoke over him once again: "Have you been sleeping at all?"

The Kamui user's eyes widened at the younger boy's perception, before he laughed. "You worry too much—"

"Not a wink for the last 48 hours," someone drawled behind him.

Obito spun around, crossing his arms: "—and who's fault was that, Bakashi?"

The taller jonin rolled his eyes. "Your own. No one asked you to stay with me."

"Oh, so I was supposed to have gone home and had a good night's sleep, without knowing whether you would even _survive_ —"

"—you knew I would, if I can survive your cooking—"

"—don't act so high and mighty; the last time you tried to _boil water_ —"

Itachi sighed, rolling his eyes, feeling exasperated and relieved in equal measure.

Kakashi would take care of his cousin, he knew. The Hatake did have a soft side for his partner, despite his unorthodox way of showing it; he was already nudging him forward, pulling him to their apartment so the older boy could finally rest.

Besides, he mused—

"Nii-san!" A boy called from the street ahead. Sasuke raced through the bustling street with practiced ease, careening into his brother's waiting arms.

—he had other things to take care of.

"Ototo," he responded, lifting the boy up.

Sasuke stilled in his hold, confused at the sudden display of affection.

Itachi buried his face into the boy's neck. "I missed you," he admitted.

After a month-long mission, it was... nice to finally be with his younger brother again.

Sasuke's eyes brightened, a secretive smile on his lips as he wrapped his arms around his brother tightly.

* * *

"Oi—hurry up, dead-last."

"I'm hurrying, I'm hurrying," Obito complained, tugging on his shoes. "Who summons sleep-deprived ninja to their office at three in the morning, anyway?

Kakashi rolled his eyes. "The Hokage," he retorted dryly. "And you may be sleep-deprived, but I'm perfectly fine."

Obito glanced at his side — where he'd been impaled, nearly cut in half, only two days before. "No, you're not. You're in no shape to be out on the field."

"Look who's talking," Kakashi replied instantly, though his tone wasn't quite so harsh. He handed Obito his vest with a smirk: "forgetting something?"

Obito smacked him — though he avoided Kakashi's injured side. The caution wasn't lost on his partner, who nudged him, suddenly serious.

"The Hokage isn't an idiot; he's not sending us out on a mission now, so quit worrying."

Obito flushed. "I wasn't _worrying_ —"

"Sure you weren't."

"You're the one who's always worrying." The older boy affected a deeper tone in his attempt to mimic Kakashi, causing him to sound as though he had a bad head-cold: " _'where did my precious Icha Icha go? Obito, did you burn it? I can't live without my porn—'"_

Kakashi instinctively reached for his pocket, then shoved at his partner when he saw his grin. "Quit smiling, I know you read it when you think I'm asleep," he sing-songed, leaping out the window before a bright red Obito could grab hold of his jacket and extract revenge.

* * *

It was in this fashion that they made their way to the requested location: not the Hokage's Tower, as was normal, but one of his hidden meeting places, usually reserved for ANBU rendezvous.

Kakashi knew the abnormality of their summons continued to bother his partner, though the Uchiha hid it well, bantering as though nothing was wrong as they leapt over rooftops.

As the wall of the hidden location came into sight, Obito's shoulders stiffened.

Kakashi grabbed his arm, surprising the older boy into slowing down.

"Relax," he repeated, "I won't let anything happen to you."

Obito's mouth slackened, his eyes growing wider. "The _hell_ , Bakashi. I should be saying that to you—"

He gesticulated wildly as he provided an extensive rant loudly explaining how, obviously, he was the superior ninja—a list that included enough reference to Kakashi's porn-reading to make the masked ninja squirm slightly— but, the younger nin was pleased to note, Obito was nowhere near as tense as before.

* * *

The Hokage clasped his hands in front of him, having concluded his summary of the situation.

Kakashi repressed a sigh, waiting for it...

Obito stared blankly at the Hokage for a moment, blinked once and then opened his mouth:

"You want us to do _what_?" He exploded.

"The mission merely based on speculation, at this point. We are not pointing fingers; I simply wish for you to... investigate... certain claims that have been made."

"You want us to spy on the Uchiha and tell you whether they've turned traitor," Obito surmised, his mouth twisting into a flat line.

He hadn't looked this angry since Minato-sensei's death.

"You will not be completing this assignment alone, of course." Sarutobi continued.

Right on cue, two masked figures slipped into the shadowed room.

Obito's expression tightened further and he glared at the Sandaime.

"Your plan is to have children massacre their own parents?" He asked coldly.

The Sandaime winced. "This is merely—"

"—a surveillance mission, I am aware. But you know as well as I do that you will find evidence damning the Uchiha, and what will you have them do then?" He gestured to the two figures.

"We will do what is necessary for Konoha," the shorter one intoned.

"And if you have to choose between the village and Sasuke?"

Itachi's fists clenched and Shisui stepped forth. "That isn't fair, Obito-nii. Using Sasuke-"

Obito's voice, unlike Shisui's passionate tone, was hollow. "None of this is fair. Your Hokage is asking you to choose between family and village."

"Obito-kun—"

"No," the disgraced Uchiha said softly. "No one has more cause to hate the Uchiha than I, but to ask it of children—"

"I outrank you—"

"On the battlefield—"

Itachi and Shisui's protests intermingled.

Obito turned to them, pressing a finger to each of their foreheads.

"You—" he said, "may outrank me, but you're still my baby cousin."

Shisui flushed.

"And you—" he moved to Itachi. "Wherever we are, battlefield or not, my duty is to protect you."

Itachi bowed his head.

"There is no evidence against the Uchiha, as of yet, correct?" Kakashi spoke for the first time. All three Uchiha spun to look at him; Obito's eyes narrowed.

"That's correct," The Sandaime replied, though his gaze lingered on Obito's hands, still gripping both his cousins tightly.

"If we choose to focus our mission on prevention of the coup d'teat—"

Both boys winced at Kakashi's bluntness, while Obito's eyebrows rose.

"Explain," The Sandaime commanded.

"The question here is whether the Uchiha feel discontent enough to stage a rebellion. But if we provide ample incentive, we can insure the Uchiha feel they will lose more than they gain, should they attack the village."

The Sandaime's eyes widened. "You are suggesting I give the Uchiha more power, in the hopes they do not betray me?"

Kakashi shrugged. "Is it any bigger a gamble than that you propose?"

He waited a moment to let the point sink in before continuing.

"And not all Uchiha are disloyal," he gestured toward the two boys. "The younger generation in particular could prove to be fast allies."

"You are basing this heavily on chance, Kakashi-kun," the Sandaime replied, but Kakashi could see the thoughtful gleam in his eye.

"Obito-kun," he said finally. "Do you agree with your partner?"

Obito locked eyes with Kakashi. "Completely, Hokage-sama. I would seek to add that both the Clan Heir and their Favored Child are already willing to assist us," he replied, tilting his head towards his two cousins.

The Hokage sighed. "Very well. Itachi-kun, Shisui-kun, presuming you have no objections, we will alter this mission."

"Your objective is now to save the Uchiha. You have four months."

* * *

Bonus points if you get what the title's referring to — besides the Katy Perry song. Also, the reason Sarutobi's calling for surveillance of the Uchiha instead of Danzo is because I feel like, at some point, Sarutobi _did_ send out ANBU to scout the Uchiha — which is the whole reason the Massacre even happened. Damn it, Sandaime!

Okay, that's a wrap. Thanks for reading! Any and all feedback is appreciated.


	4. Your mind (is mine)

Okay, this chapter is my personal favorite, just because, well, _Shisui_. I love his relationship with Itachi - which, just in case you're wondering, is purely _platonic_ , in this story (and all others I will write.) - because on the surface, they're both such similar characters, and yet, their approaches are so very different. I hope I managed to get that across somewhat in this chapter. Enjoy!

* * *

The Uchiha mutter when they're plotting.

One would think a clan so heavily fixated on their ocular prowess would have some eye-related tell, but that would be a rookie mistake: the Uchiha begin training their children's eyes before they teach them to walk; they pride themselves on their unblinking stoicism.

The eyes are the windows to the soul, and the Uchiha have drawn their blinds shut.

Their mouths, however, remain wide open.

So when the Uchiha compound begins to buzz, almost humming with tension, with anger, Shisui knows it has begun.

The rebellion is only in its very first stages, it's barely even dissent at this point.

But even suggesting that _maybe_ Konoha would be better off relying more on their police force, even a whisper that _perhaps_ the Sandaime is getting too old is disloyalty.

And Konoha never forgives those who betray her.

The Uchiha are a prestigious clan, even if only in name, and Shisui can see all too clearly the path this will take them, should it continue: dishonor, cowardice painting their once illustrious name; the survivors of an internal struggle for power broken, horrified, taunted by civilians, warily watched by distrustful shinobi.

He thinks Itachi would understand.

He thinks Sasuke deserves better than a life surrounded by the remnants of a family that betrayed its own.

He thinks of his parents, his mother: harsh, determined eyes, unyielding will, his father: soft, gentle voice, thinks of the sacrifice they made to keep Konoha safe and decides there is no other way.

* * *

It's mere chance that he meets the boy — and it is chance that compels him to plop down next to him.

For today, Uzumaki Naruto is uncharacteristically glum. His shoulders droop, his jacket torn and discarded in some gutter, and he sits with his head pressed to his knees, shivering in his cheap mesh top.

Shisui sits next to him on instinct; if Sasuke — his little brother in all but name — was looking so lost, he wouldn't leave him be.

Surely an orphan — and he must be an orphan; no one would allow their child to be alone on the streets at this time — deserves to be treated the same way.

"Are you hurt?" Shisui asks, as small shoulders start to shake.

Then the blond head lifts, startled blue eyes meet his own, and Shisui forgets to breathe.

He'd wept after the Yondaime's funeral, after hours of holding Itachi and feeling his body quake, he'd snuck out quietly — a hand clamped over his mouth to muffle his cries — returning an hour later, with barely hidden red eyes to help Mikoto with dinner.

He hadn't cried for the Hokage; he hadn't known Namikaze Minato, not the way Itachi had, the way Mikoto had, the way Fugaku had, not even the innocent way infantile Sasuke had — Shisui had seen the man at his initation as Hokage, obviously, but never after that (though he wonders, if on _That Night_ , he'd seen a flash of yellow, just as the sky exploded.)

But he'd known that when the man died, he took all hopes of a peaceful Konoha, a loyal Uchiha, with him.

And anyone from here to Iwagakure would recognize those blue eyes.

This is his son. The cursed child: the unwilling, unknowing sacrifice.

Shisui contemplates leaving, getting up and walking away before the boy can register his presence _—_ because some part of his _aches_ still, the part of him that thinks of what the Uchiha could have been, thinks of orange goggles and a loud boisterous voice: _Obito-nii —_ but the blond turns to him with a gap-toothed smile completely at odds with the tears on his face.

He looks _overjoyed_ that someone is talking to him. Shisui's stomach twists uncomfortably.

What is being _done_ to the Yondaime's son?

"Nah, was runnin' 'way from some guys and then they almost catched me, so I had to hide in the hole but then they most found me so I runned 'way but my jacket got lost and what's your name, mister?"

Shisui's mouth twists. This boy is almost Sasuke's age.

He is nothing like Sasuke.

"I'm Shisui," he offers, holding out a hand. "Nice to meet you."

The Yondaime's son blinks at it.

It takes the older boy a moment to realize the blond has no idea what to do.

The guilt stewing in his stomach increases tenfold when he moves to maneuver the boy's hand into his own and the blond flinches at his touch.

"It's nice to meet you," he tells the boy.

The sacrifice — Naruto — looks at him, wide eyed.

Shisui meets his gaze, trying his best not to let any of the turmoil brewing in his mind to show on his face.

The moment is broken when Naruto's stomach growls loudly.

The blond blushes, reaching down, before groaning loudly.

"Oh _no_!"

"What is it?" Shisui asks.

The blond looks up, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly.

"I guess I musta left my wallet in my jacket—"

"Your _wallet_?" Surely, he is too young for an allowance. "Don't your caretakers handle your finances?"

"What's finance?"

"Your money, Naruto. Who looks after you?"

Naruto blinks. "Whaddaya mean?"

A horrible thought takes root in Shisui's mind, but he does his best to ignore it.

It _can't_ be.

"Who do you live with?"

Naruto scrunches his nose, apparently in deep thought.

"No one," he declares, "But Kaori-neesan lives upstairs and she's nice!"

"No one," Shisui echoes, wondering dimly why the name 'Kaori' sounds so familiar.

Naruto's stomach growls again, and he folds his knees to his chest.

Shisui stands up, offering the boy a hand.

Naruto blinks at for a moment, before grasping it shyly, allowing Shisui to pull him up.

"Come on," he tells the boy. "Let's get something to eat,"

Naruto gapes at him. "But I don't got no money!"

"I'll treat you," Shisui offers, almost wincing as those blue eyes widen further; has no one ever taken this boy out for food?

Then again, he reflects, watching the villagers that pass them by glare at the small boy, who would?

He makes sure to glare at each and every one of them.

 _Bastards._

"Oh, like the Old Man does?" Naruto brightens, after assessing Shisui for a brief moment. "Can we get ramen?"

Shisui nods, wonders who the 'Old Man' is. Kakashi, perhaps? But the man is too busy reading his porn and chasing his ghosts to care for the living, the vindictive part of him thinks.

"Sure, Naruto."

Naruto beams at him, the first true smile Shisui's seen from him.

"Thanks, Shisui-nii!"

* * *

The next time he meets Naruto, the boy is busy climbing down a three-story building.

He presses a finger to his lips, an unspoken plea for silence in his eyes – and then dives into a nearby bush.

Barely twenty seconds have passed before a footsteps sound.

A herd of disgruntled nin round the corner.

 _Chuunin_ , Shisui decides at a glance, Freshly promoted Chuunin are always anticipating chances to prove themselves.

"Have you seen him?" A disheveled brunette asks him breathlessly.

"Seen whom?"

"Hey—" a particularly bulky boy steps out of the group, "if you're hiding him—"

" _Kou_ ," the brunette hisses, elbowing him sharply, "That's Uchiha Shisui. _Shunshin no Shisui_!"

The burly redhead pales rapidly, bowing. "I'm so sorry, sir—"

Shisui internally rolls his eyes. If he were any other — typical — Uchiha, he'd lecture these children about the importance of respecting one's superiors, perhaps throw in a bit about being vigilant of their surroundings as well.

But, he muses, coughing loudly to disguise the shifting in the bushes, he's not a typical Uchiha. "No problem," he says mildly, voice rough from his bout of 'coughing.' "But perhaps you should try looking elsewhere?"

The Chuunin all nod rapidly, the muscular boy throwing one last awestruck look his way before fleeing.

Naruto jumps out of the bushes almost before they vanish into the treetops.

"That was SO _COOL_ ; you were all like 'I'm Shisui-nii and I'm awesome!' and they were all like 'Seriously?' and then you were like ' _Yeah_ ,' and they were all like 'oh, sorry sir, we didn't know, sir,'" he exclaims, hands flying in all directions in excitement.

Shisui raises an eyebrow, not even attempting to decipher that convoluted exchange.

"I'm glad you appreciated it," he responds dryly. "Would you like to tell me _why_ a group of Chuunin were after you?"

Naruto scuffs his shoe against the ground, shakes his head. "Not really," he mumbles.

"Naruto."

Another head shake.

Shisui sighs. "Alright then. Would you like to get something to eat?"

Naruto brightens immediately. "Ramen!"

* * *

Naruto blurts it out just as Shisui bids him farewell for the day, after a hearty meal and a trip to the playground.

"They… don't really like me," he admits quietly, still rocking on the swing. "They're always coming after me, saying I should _stop_ , when I'm not even doing anything! Last week they took all my groceries because they said they were 'comanitated' and—and—they _hate_ me."

Shisui represses the wave of anger that threatens to overcome him.

Typical Konoha nin, hating first, and thinking second — if at all.

"I'll take care of it," he promises, but Naruto shakes his head decisively, skidding his swing to a stop and crossing his arms.

"Uh-uh!"

Shisui arches his eyebrow in silent question.

"It's okay even if they're mean now, 'cuz when I'm Hokage, they'll hafta respect me — and all the Old Man says you gotta face lotsa hardships to become Hokage."

Shisui's eyes stutter shut once, of their own accord, his composure completely broken.

"How?" He manages,

How can you face their hatred, not knowing it is directed at the power inside of you, and still _hope_ for something better?

Naruto eyes the Uchiha seriously, beginning to swing once more. "Well, what else could I do?"

Hate them, Shisui doesn't say. Loathe them, as they loathe you, loathe them _because_ they loathe you for something beyond your control.

But — and his eyes slide shut again as the thought occurs to him— Naruto is _winning_.

Every time he smiles, every time he refuses to return the heated glares leveled at him, he is winning against the villagers and their hatred, simply because he will not return it in kind.

And, even if Shisui is not strong enough to counter hatred with pleasantry, the least he can do is aid Naruto in fighting his one-sided war.

"Naruto, have you ever meet my cousin?"

Naruto shakes his head.

"Would you like to?"

Naruto blinks. Inhales. Exhales.

Shisui braces his ears for the raucous holler, but Naruto's answer is barely audible.

"You want me to come to your _house_?" He whispers.

"Yes, would you like to?"

Naruto nods so enthusiastically, Shisui's almost surprised his neck doesn't snap.

"YES!"

Ah. There's the scream.

* * *

Predictably, Sasuke loves the blond.

Naruto's unusually quiet as he shyly greets Sasuke, but a few minutes later, they're chasing each other around the house, giggling and screeching.

Itachi glares at his cousin for disrupting the peace, but even he can't control the minute twitching of his lips.

* * *

Fugaku is another matter entirely.

He stops dead in the entryway when he sees Naruto on their living room floor.

The blond seems to sense his gaze, looking up from the block tower he'd been building, and tensing when he meet the Clan Head's eyes.

Itachi breaks the tension, smoothly ushering his father into the next room.

Shisui enters after the Clan Head, trying to quell his panic at Fuguku's carefully blank expression.

"Is he—?" The man asks.

"Yes," Shisui responds, bows his head. "I realize this is an unexpected situation but I believe he could be a great asset to the clan—"

Fuguku cuts him off, looking almost amused. "And what do you actually believe?"

Shisui fidgets. "His neighbor is a prostitute," he blurts out so suddenly that Itachi, standing in the doorway, nearly flinches back.

Kaori — Naruto's 'nice neighbor' — is actually one of Konoha's most infamous whores.

Which says a lot about the area where the blonde lives.

Shisui watches Fuguku attempt to come to grips with this idea.

"And the way people look at him—as though they wish to strike him dead where he stands— even the ninja harass him—"

Fuguku holds up a hand, and Shisui subsides, exchanging an uncertain look with Itachi.

"Namikaze Minato," he says slowly, "saved my life seven times during the war. He knew the honor of the Uchiha, and did much for both my sons and my clan. I owe him a debt that cannot be repaid. Taking in his son would be the least I can do for him."

"Is that the only reason?" Shisui ventures. He shouldn't push — not when Fuguku is offering his home to Konoha's most hated orphan — but.

After Shisui's parents were killed on a mission, this man took him in as well, gave him a family — even though he could have, by all rights placed him in an orphanage.

He wants Fuguku to make Naruto one of his own, as he did with Shisui — he wants Fuguku to see him as a child, not an asset.

Fuguku stares at him for a long moment, before he responds. "For now."

The Clan Head moves past the two cousins, shuts the door behind him.

Shisui waits until he's out of earshot to glance at Itachi— who's already smirking.

"For now," Itachi echoes. "Good work, nii-san."

* * *

Thanks for reading. How did I do with Shisui? Is he too reserved? Out-of-character? Let me know what you think.


	5. Tell Me (Something I Don't Know)

I know, I know. I'm a complete (insert insult of your choice here).

As always, thank you for your feedback, which motivated me into posting this final chapter, even though I'm still not satisfied with it.

Chapter Five: In which Sasuke puts his pretty, overused eyes to good use.

* * *

"Homura Danzo. Tell me about him." Sasuke demanded, bursting into Kabuto's private quarters. The med nin heaved an internal sigh, and didn't look up from where he was sliding a needle into his latest test subject's arm.

Sasuke's chakra flared, and Kabuto, sensing the Uchiha's infamous patience was nearing its end, rolled his eyes, making another few final notes on his clipboard before waving a hand.

"You can go," he told the girl. She eyed Sasuke warily as she brushed past him, doubtlessly tasting his unique gritty, dour flavor: the danger lurking beneath the restless energy he flooded the room with.

"How rude," Kabuto complained, inspecting the vial of blood. "Interrupting me when I'm dealing with such a fascinating specimen—did you know it was possible to _taste_ chakra? Imagine the _possibilities_ —"

Sasuke unsheathed his sword, and Kabuto raised an eyebrow. "There's no need for violence, Sasuke-kun."

"Then _answer my question_." The boy bit out.

"What was it again? Oh, yes." He made a show of remembering, savoring his next words. "Homura Danzo. A major—one might even say vital—part of Konoha's political system. He's part of the Council of Elders: their unofficial leader. What else? He's unmarried, and — oh _yes_. He has multiple Sharingan implanted into his right arm."

"I know that," Sasuke replied, his hands clenching. "What I want to know is _how he got them_."

"I presume it had something to do with his order to end the Uchiha bloodline," Kabuto mused. "Shunshin no Shisui's eye was the first he implanted, after all."

Sasuke froze; Kabuto internally chuckled at the look of desperate hope on his face.

"He—he— _ordered_ it?"

"Well, of course he did. You didn't think your brother wanted to kill your family, did you?"

"If you're lying—" Sasuke hissed.

"Would I do that?" Kabuto wondered.

Sasuke's chakra flared again, and all Kabuto's hairs stood on end. "The file detailing the order is in the library. Konoha 957.33S-ANBU, I believe."

Sasuke disappeared almost before Kabuto had finished his sentence. The med nin allowed a smile to stretch across his pale face.

Things were about to get interesting, that was certain.

* * *

Itachi hadn't wanted to kill them.

The thought rattled in Sasuke's brain, slamming into the sides of his skull, slowly, surely, eating away at his anger, replacing it with confusion, hope.

 _My goal is to kill a certain man_.

But what if that man — what if Itachi —what if his nii-san had a reason?

* * *

At the very end of the file, Sasuke found it.

 **An allowance has been made, for a single life, by request of Uchiha Itachi.**

 _I am the allowance,_ Sasuke thought dimly, letting the paper flutter to the floor. _My life— he bargained his future for my_ life.

* * *

It takes almost half a year to find Itachi; tracking the Akatsuki is no easy matter—and breaking into their base should prove to be even more difficult.

Thankfully, Orochimaru seems almost eager to assist him —something about a previous 'partner' of his — and one of the Akatsuki members has a habit of exploding villages for fun, leaving a trail of bodies, though few retain the ability to speak afterwards, so witness are little to none.

Sasuke manages to be patient. He's been waiting almost a decade to face his brother, after all, and the change in his goal has only served to solidify his resolve.

* * *

Five months and some days after Sasuke stumbled onto a record of Danzo's uncovered arm, he breaks into his brother's current base.

Explosion sound some five miles away — Orochimaru's grudge match has begun — so the base is nearly empty.

From what Kabuto has garnered, the base has certain valuables that cannot be left unattended, and Itachi is usually left to guard them, because of his Mankegyou's advanced properties.

Sasuke steels himself, and enters.

He's barely stepped foot into the lair when a kunai thunks into the wall behind him.

"The next one goes in your chest," Itachi states quietly.

He sits cross-legged at the center of the room, his eyes closed.

Just a few months ago, the nonchalant air surrounding him would have infuriated the younger Uchiha — how _dare_ he act as though he is somehow superior to Sasuke?

Now, it almost makes him smile. His brother is mediating, as he used do after missions, a lifetime — nine years — ago.

A pang of nostalgia strikes Sasuke, who clenches his fists, but doesn't respond.

"You're silent today. How unlike you."

Sasuke notes the near undetectable trace of concern lacing the elder Uchiha's voice.

"I don't think you're in any place to talk about uncharacteristic actions, idiot."

Itachi's on his feet in an instant, pinning Sasuke to the wall. The younger boy dodges the hand that reaches for his throat, and avoids Itachi's spinning eyes.

His eyes flare red as well, he tosses a fire justu towards Itachi, and the elder Uchiha dodges it lazily. In the time his jutsu has bought him, Sasuke bites his thumb, presses the blood to his wrist, pulling out a sheaf of paper from the seal inscribed onto his body — Itachi catches the paper, the twist of his mouth the only visible trace of his curiosity.

His eyes widen as he skims the pages, though he quickly blanks his expression, dropping the paper and incinerating them.

"You could have done that while I was holding them," Sasuke points out.

Itachi lunges.

* * *

"A few papers and you're prepared to forgive me? You're weak after all."

His attacks are sloppy. Desperate.

Which, for Itachi, means they're lethal, barely a millimeter off course.

Sasuke inclines his head, barely avoiding a punch that would have broken at least three ribs.

"When it comes to you, when haven't I been? And I've been trying to forgive you since That Night."

A kick levelled at his stomach knocks the air out of his lungs, but Sasuke refuses to go on the offensive.

"I killed your parents, have you forgotten?" Itachi snarls, sounding every bit a caged animal.

" _Our_ parents," Sasuke corrects — which serves to make Itachi even more vicious.

A barrage of sudden taijutsu leaves him on his knees, forcing back bile.

Itachi unsheathes Sasuke's sword, places it against his throat.

Sasuke's pulse triples.

He feels strangely calm, raising an eyebrow in unspoken question.

 _Will you do it? Will you kill me?_

Itachi's eyes widen, staring through Sasuke, seeing someone else entirely.

Sasuke inhales sharply, opens his mouth, and the metal cuts into his skin.

A thin trickle of blood running onto his collarbone seems to shock Itachi back into consciousness.

"No," he gasps wildly. Sasuke's never seen his brother so unhinged. So out-of-control.

He tilts his throat, allows the metal to bite deeper.

Itachi wrenches the sword away from his skin with a strangled moan.

Sasuke meets his eyes, rises slowly.

"Aniki," he says — pleads — for the first time in nine years.

Itachi drops the sword.

* * *

Okay, that's a wrap. Thanks for reading/favoriting/reviewing this story. Drop me a line to tell me how I did - was it an adequate ending? Or just come yell at me for taking so long.

And, lastly, to my reviews - who I was too shy to reply to before this -

 **Blank Uchiha -** Yeah, I'm considering writing a series of spin-offs for each of these scenarios; I do think that there are a lot of ideas that could be further developed, if inspiration strikes.

 **donahermurphy** \- I completely agree. Itachi is my favorite ever, but at the same time, he could use an ass-kicking or two.

 **FluffyBots** \- _yes_. Thank you - they should all just be happy. And _alive_. (Damn it, Itachi.)

 **matchynishi** thank you, thank you - I really wasn't sure if I was characterizing Shisui properly, so it's good to hear that you liked him!

 **jmtothemusic** I'm so glad you liked Shisui! And, yeah, Sasuke was the most adorable kid _ever_.

 **roxelyn -** Yeah, protective Obito is my favorite Obito. And I'm so glad you liked it!

 **AngeDREAMS -** Yeah, I tried my best to show the "non-jerk" side of Sasuke, because I felt like it wasn't shown enough in the anime/manga. Thanks for your support!

 **I-heartDire -** I will definitely consider it!

Thanks for everything, guys!


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